


Spanish Rose

by Simoniage



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anxiety, Cheating, Depression, Heartbreak, M/M, dissosociation, implied thoughts of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 14:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13882992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simoniage/pseuds/Simoniage
Summary: Ludwig goes to a cafe, reminiscing on catching his former fiance with another man, and receives unlikely advice from a messy-haired, clumsy, guy in his politics class.





	Spanish Rose

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this in my queue for so long! But thankfully I'm getting to the point where I'm finishing all my old writings and posting them! This one of so many fanfictions that are going up on my ao3. 
> 
> I hope, despite it's age, it's a good fanfiction!

**Call me the wild Spanish rose!**

**The craziest flower that grows**

**I'll kick up my heels and see**

**How it feels to be sultry Spanish rose**

_-Spanish Rose, Bye Bye Birdie_

 

* * *

There was just one thing.   One thing that annoyed Ludwig to no end. The mere thought of the action made bile rise to his throat and his toes curl inward.   
  
Cheating.   
  
He couldn't even understand why people dishonored their lover's trust like that.  If you truly felt bored enough with someone to find another, then you wouldn't have a reason to stay with the former.   
  
Four years and a gold ring to tie the bond, only to have the news of your boyfriend laying with another man.   
  
Dark mocha skin, rich dark chocolate hair that shone in the sun.  Olive green eyes and such a smile. Ludwig could only describe him as a nightmare disguised as a daydream.  He was wonderful. The perfect boyfriend. For anyone, apparently.    
  
Surroundings were bleak.  Pale. Lifeless. Ludwig couldn't distinguish similar colors in his broken mind.  He recognized the figure of a small table. It's purpose was a relief.

  
Ludwig sighed, placing down his heavy black leather work bag onto one of the tables.  The day had been a long series of painful events, and Ludwig was more than eager to get it over with.   
  


The smell of coffee swirled in the air; but also chocolate and freshly baked breads.   Ludwig hadn't even noticed the place he had stumbled into. It was small, claustrophobic; yet it felt like a home.  The air was warm with mocha dizziness, a lovely contrast to the chilled air outside.

  
Even with all that happened, he craved the feeling of foreign skin against his own.  They had melted together so perfectly. Now what had been was now lost in sorrowful memories and painful reminders.   
  
With hunched, defeated shoulders, the blonde heaved himself to the front counter.  The counter was smooth to the touch. where he met face-to-face with a young, enthusiastic barista who had a warming, glowing smile.   
  
A smile that could almost match against his.   The smile Ludwig would receive on days where it was just too much for him.   When life became stressful, he was already by his side saying sweet compliments and just...smiling.    
  
"Hello!  Welcome to La Café Ve, stranger!  I'll be your barista for today. May I recommend the Spanish Cappuccino?  It's our special today and it's quite a sweet starter of the day."    
  
Ludwig flinched at the mention of Spain, the country Antonio owed his heart to; half to Spain, the other to Ludwig.   
  
He and Spain weren't the only ones with his heart, apparently.   
  
The boy had unruly hair that fit him perfectly.  Little strands stuck out of all areas, including one distinct one from the left side of his head.  It curled and stood perfectly by itself.   
  
Just like...   
  
He didn't even want to think of his face.  His past lover's face brough bittersweetness to Ludwig, but the other's face brought rage.  Thinking about him made Ludwig's blood boil and his knees week. He had the most important man in his life taken by the other.     
  
"No thank you.  I'd like to order a simple black coffee with..."  He hadn't had breakfast that morning, he had remembered.  He was too busy looking for another house to live in while Gilbert invited his boyfriend over to plan the day.  "...a blueberry tart, if that would be alright."   
  
"Alrighty!  Thaaaatttt's-"   
  
"5.67, I believe."   
  
Ludwig stared down at the face of the boy in front of him to see his reaction.  He seem nearly shocked by Ludwig's sharp calculation skills, but the expression quickly changed to a wide grin.   
  
"You're the blonde from my accounting and my politics class!  I knew I recognized you from somewhere!" His voice seemed cheery and sweet, inviting Ludwig closer to the boy.  He pressed his waist against the counter, the plastic digging into his belt buckle.   
  
"Is that so?   I don't believe I know your name, though."   
  
He saw Antonio in everywhere he looked.   In this boy, in the coffee, even in the trees outside.   
  
Ludwig watched as the barista moved his way across the small kitchen area to pour is black coffee.  His long, fragile fingers gripped the cup tightly as it poured.   
  
"Feliciano!"   
  
Ludwig watched his fingers in a daze, memories of Antonio's fingers dancing across pale skin.  The blonde couldn't look away from the barista; the memories we're too painful to bear. He froze.  Ghost feelings of finger tips rolled across his cheek. His neck. His lips. He was there, taunting him every step of the way.   
  
"Sir?"   
  
Ludwig snapped to reality at the brunette's bright,bubbly, yet concerned voice.  His eyes flickered upwards to meet chocolate swirled eyes. The calm before the storm.   
  
Wetness rolled down Ludwig's structured cheeks.  He pressed his forefinger and middle together, raising his hand to touch his now tear stained cheek.  He had never felt like this before.

Heartbreak at first sight.

He didn’t even know the man in front of him.  His auburn eyes were similar to the one who stole his precious Antonio.  His hair was lighter, but the style all too much the same. The skin was as creamy and even, but a lighter shade than the others.   
  
He hadn't cried over Antonio.  He promised himself he wouldn't.  His brother had proclaimed that nobody was worth the fuss of an emotional break down.  Gilbert would be furious to find him reduced to a teary rage. Emotions that had already manifested inside of him burst forward.

Ludwig gripped the faux wood counter and hunched forward. The pain grew in his chest.  He shook and furiously wept. The tears from his gentle eyes stained his pale skin. He tried so hard to maintain himself in front of this stranger.  Yet he was falling. Falling like the Walls of Jericho. Falling like the Roman Empire.

Even the strongest barriers can and will be broken down.

A small hand gripped his burly shoulder.  The hand was pulling him out of the dark emotions inside of him.  He was starting to feel steady again as the figure shook him awake.

“Sir!  Signore!  Please respond to me!”

His voice was frantic and pleading, clearly worried for Ludwig.  He, a complete stranger, had all of a sudden collapsed forward, after all.

Ludwig looked down at the barista's feet, scanning his body upwards to find a large brown stain on the boy’s uniform.  A recently made stain. The liquid was still dripping from his apron.

The smell was fresh too.  Black coffee. A brand all too familiar to him.   

On his way to help Ludwig, he had spilled the coffee all over himself.  Whether he had threw it in shock or simply knocked it over Ludwig didn't know, but he did know that anyway it was put, it was his fault.

Ludwig stood up straight and wiped his eyes with his arm sleeve.  The cool tears wet his shirt, dotting the striped jacket with moisture.

“I'm sorry for worrying you,” Ludwig mustered through his want to sob.  “I’m okay now. Things just haven't been going in my favor lately.”

Feliciano’s eyebrows relaxed and he gave a pitiful smile.  “I understand completely, friend. Hard times are very difficult to deal with.”  The brunette untied his apron and set it aside. The pants underneath were only slightly ruined, but his white shirt was completely wrecked.

“I'm sorry.  This is entirely my fault.”  Ludwig sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  He could already feel the migraine coming on.

“No!  It's not!  I'm such a clutz.  I didn't place the coffee cup sleeve on properly before trying to hand it to you.”  He furrowed his eyebrows and gave another nervous smile. “I would have spilled it even if you didn't fall forward.  I'm just glad you're alright.”

“Your shirt is still ruined.  I'll pay for the damages.” Ludwig picked up Feliciano’s apron and looked at the damages.  The apron seemed to have already existing stains in the fabric, but the newest one was a huge addition.

“No no!  Really! Things like this happen all the time.  I have plenty of extra uniforms. I just need to go home and change into one!”  Feliciano grabbed a brown dish rag and began wiping off the dark liquid off the plastic counter.   The fake wood cover was already starting to warp from the heat of the liquid.

“Did you burn yourself?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you burned yourself.  I hear that coffee places always heat their coffee past 100 degrees to keep it hot for longer.”  Ludwig had heard of stories where people had severely burnt themselves with the coffee from cafés.  

“Oh!  No, I'm fine.  Usually only big mainstream stores heat their coffee that hot.  Not only that, they use a ton of unnecessary chemicals to keep it that temperature.  Our formula is nearly one hundred percent natural.”

Ludwig started to think of Antonio again, but he pushed the thought of his ex lover out of his mind.  

“That makes sense, actually,” Ludwig responded.  He awkwardly watched Feliciano clean the coffee spill, eyes mesmerized by the way he moved with fluidity.

“Do you want some help?”  

“I think I got it.”

Ludwig curtly nodded to the other’s reaction, secretly thankful for the denial of help.  His mental state had worsened since arriving at the college cafe. He was once calm, composed, unphased by the events of the past few days.  What caused his barriers to fall, he didn’t know.

Everything mixed together in chaotic harmony.  The only way to describe his mood was simply an out of body experience.  His saliva caught in his throat, making the dryness of his throat all too apparent.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t eaten or drinken anything since a few days prior.  Had he been silently suffering, where even he hadn’t noticed the tell tale signs of it all?  The coffee would have been the first thing in awhile, and Ludwig doubted he would have even touched the blueberry pastry.

The blonde wasn’t even sure how long time had passed since his mind was left to wander.  His eyes fixated on the clean spot of formerly spilled coffee, but Feliciano’s hand was no longer there.

“Your name is...Ludwig, right?” he heard a name speak to him.  It’s voice was bubbly, loud, friendly, and high in pitch. It was nothing like Antonio’s, yet so similar.  The thick accent that slurred alongside the other’s words reminded him so much of his ex lover’s own accent.

“Correct.”  He finally broke free from his mental trauma, and gave a hard stare to Feliciano.  He could see the tension, the worry, collecting in the other’s furrowed brows.

“Ludwig, if you’d allow me-”

“It’s fine.  I’m fine.”

He turned from Feliciano’s worried figure, and started to head towards his bag.  He would collect it, leave, and never speak with Feliciano again. He was pitiful- he didn’t deserve to be concerned.

Ironic.  This was the behavior he patronized his older brother Gilbert for.  The crippling, anxious thoughts of self deprecation.

He understood why Gilbert stayed in bed sometimes.

He stopped in his tracks, fists clenched at his sides.  He didn’t want this pain. He didn’t want this hurt. He just wanted to feel happy, to forget about everything that transpired.  He wanted Antonio to disappear, and never reappear, and to stay gone forever!

“You’re...not fine, yes?”  Feliciano’s once cheery voice dropped an octave lower, and Ludwig could decipher the concerness in his tone.  “I know that look. Someone hurt you.”

He couldn’t deny his classmate of his pain.  But weakness, he couldn’t show it, he couldn’t-

“I don’t know what happened,” Feliciano spoke again, his voice almost a whisper as he came up behind Ludwig.  When did he cross the threshold of the counter? “But they say opening up to a stranger can help relieve some stress.  We aren’t close, so it isn’t a burden for me to listen to your tale.” The Italian sighed. “I want to help you.”

Ludwig felt a warm pressure against his back, and before he knew it, tight arms wrapped around his stomach.  Feliciano was hugging him.

“Tell me all your troubles over some coffee, okay?  Anything after the first coffee is on the house.”

Ludwig nodded,

Maybe sharing his problems with a stranger would be beneficial.  But deep down, Ludwig knew, he couldn’t escape Antonio, his spanish rose.


End file.
